


Life of the Party

by cyren2132



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Costume Party, Fight with bully, Gen, Halloween, Loss of Parent(s), Yuletide Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-20
Updated: 2015-12-20
Packaged: 2018-05-07 21:31:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5471459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cyren2132/pseuds/cyren2132
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bruce Wayne can find trouble anywhere.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Life of the Party

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nocturnal08](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nocturnal08/gifts).



> For nocturnal08, whose prompts included: Bruce taking out a petty crook and putting on a mask during a Halloween party and getting his first taste of what it's like to not be Bruce Wayne.

Bruce was just buttoning the first button on his vest when Alfred walked in.  
  
“Ah, I see you found your ‘costume’,” he said.  
  
“You say that like it doesn’t qualify,” Bruce answered as his fingers traveled up the clothing.  
  
“It’s bloody formal wear!” Alfred said. “Most kids would be dressing up as superheroes and monsters-”  
  
“The Phantom is a classic. It’s elegant. And he was a monster in his own right. Until he wasn’t, that is. And it has a mask. Did you find the hat?”  
  
“Yes,” Alfred said as he handed Bruce a square, black hat with a wide, flat brim. “You know, I was with your dad when he bought it. Your mum laughed for hours when she saw it.”  
  
Bruce held the hat in his hands, running his fingers over the fabric and trying to imagine — trying to remember, really — the sound of his mother’s laugh. For a moment, he could feel tears threatening to spill over, but he forced them back.  
  
“Yes, I imagine it would have been quite humorous on a man his size.” He set it on his own head, turning it just so and adjusting it in the mirror before turning back to face Alfred.  
  
“Ah, a perfect fit,” Alfred said. “And here is your cape,” he said, wrapping it around Bruce’s shoulders, “and your mask. I don’t know why you went with the full one; aren’t most of them one-sided things these days?”  
  
“Less, even” Bruce answered. “But I’ve never known what was supposed to be so frightening — or effective -- about a handsome man who shows 3/4 of his face to his adversaries.”  
  
“Master Bruce, I think as you grow older, you’ll find that some of the most frightening people hide behind their own pretty faces,” Alfred said as he led Bruce out the door and into the car. “But in this case, I see your point.”  
  
Bruce tucked the mask under his arm as they made their way to the car. It was a 20-minute drive to the community center, and they sat in silence for the first half of it.  
  
“You know, it’s awfully good of you to go this year,” Alfred said. “I wouldn’t have made you, you know.”  
  
“I know.”  
  
They were headed to a Halloween Charity Ball. A group of women organized the first one more than a decade ago. The concept was simple: A costume party for all of Gotham’s children to enjoy Halloween without having to wander the streets or travel long distances for safe neighborhoods, and in costumes — many of which donated by a generous foundation — no one could tell who was rich or poor. It was just a fun night for everyone and donations were taken ahead of time to pay for it and help a local shelter with the extra. Bruce hadn’t gone the year before. His parents’ murders were still too fresh  to want to revel in a day generally marked for chills and thrills and more than a little death.  
  
“Do you think it will be safe, Alfred? Lately it just seems like public events in Gotham haven’t ended all that well.”  
  
“I wouldn’t worry, Master Bruce. With the leader of that Maniax crew of ruffians out of the picture and the Maroni and Falcone families taken care of, it seems things should be looking up. But, should there be trouble and you find yourself in the thick of it, I’ve got Detective Gordon on speed dial. Plus, haven’t we spent weeks going over self defense?”  
  
“Yes, Alfred,” Bruce said. “I’m sure I’m worried about nothing.”  
  
“That you are,” Alfred answered. “Tonight is supposed to be all about having fun with kids your own age. Eat candy, drink punch, maybe find a pretty girl to dance with.”  
  
Bruce could feel his cheeks flushing at the comment, and he hoped Alfred couldn’t tell through the darkness.  
  
When they arrived at the venue, Alfred pulled into an underground parking lot and found a secluded space. Bruce stood next to the car while Alfred dug through the trunk, emerging with a large black head covering and a practice epee for fencing. He pulled the covering over his head. It stopped at his cheekbones, and he stared out through two eyeholes before swishing his sword in a flourished Z pattern and tucking it into his sash.  
  
“How do I look,” he asked and Bruce tried to fight a smile. “What? Do I look funny to you?”  
  
“No, not at all,” Bruce said through a snicker. “You look very dashing for a man of your age.” Bruce turned and started walking for the elevator.  
  
“For a man of my a-” Alfred slammed the trunk shut and hurried after Bruce, wrapping one arm around the boy’s shoulder and pulling him into a friendly embrace. “I’ll have you know, it’ll be a great many years before I’m so feeble and frail you need to ship me off to a home. You can’t get rid of me that easily.” They both laughed.  
  
“I wouldn’t want to, Alfred. I wouldn’t want to.”

* * *

  
Bruce walked into the hall slowly. He wasn’t sure the makeup of the crowd or if anyone would recognize him, but he wasn’t in the mood to be recognized.  
  
“I’ll be over there if you need, Master Bruce,” Alfred whispered and gestured to a side room full of adults in varying degree of costume. “You go mingle, now.” Bruce nodded as Alfred disappeared in the fray.  
  
As Bruce continued to the other end of the room - having decided the best strategy was to walk the four quadrants until he found something to do, he saw Tommy, the boy who had insulted his parents and Bruce at school on his last day before Bruce switched to an independent study program (and punched Tommy in the face after a few tips from Alfred).  
  
“Cool mask,” Tommy said as he passed by. Bruce nodded and a smile crept onto his face once he was out of Tommy’s sight. No one recognized him. Nobody stared forlornly at the billionaire orphan or tried to schmooze their way into his good graces. The mask gave Bruce an elated sense of freedom. He played a few games. Ate a few pieces of candy, and even joined a group of kids his own age dancing together in a small clearing. He had just broken away for a glass of punch served out of a smoking cauldron when he felt a tap on his left shoulder. He turned to look but no one was there. When he turned back around, he was face-to-face with a pair of cat ears.  
  
“Get a tap on the left, always turn to the right,” Selina said with a smile.  
  
“Selina,” Bruce said. He tried to not smile, but he was pretty sure he failed. “You look very nice.” She raised her eyebrows at him. The clothes were her everyday street clothes, embellished with just the ears, tail, a pair of furry mittens and whiskers painted on her cheeks. “It’s nice to see you here,” Bruce continued. “Are you…”  
  
“Working?” Selina finished for him. “Nah, thought about it but it’s a little conspicuous in there.” She nodded to the mingling adults. “And everything out here’s free, anyway,” she continued as she lifted Bruce’s drink from his hand and took a sip. “Anyway, I recognized you, and thought I’d come say hi.”  
  
“Oh,” Bruce said. “I thought I was doing an adequate job of blending in. Not that I’m disappointed to see you!” he finished quickly. She laughed a big laugh and handed his drink back to him.  
  
“Don’t worry, Brucie” she said through giggles. “It’s just ‘cause I know you.”  
  
He stared at her quizzically.  
  
“They know me,” he stated, pointing into the crowd.  
  
“They went to school with you for a little while. There’s a big difference.” They lapsed into a brief silence as Bruce finished his drink and Selina perched herself atop a prop wooden fence coated in cotton spiderwebbing and watched the crowd. But then they heard a small voice from a coat room off to the side.  
  
“Give it back!” a little girl said.  
  
“Finders keepers,” an older boy said. Selina had spun around and off the fence before Bruce could put his drink down.  
  
“Hey, you got a problem?” Selina was saying as he made his way to the room. A large boy in a skeleton costume clutched a bag of candy in his hand with another at his feet.  
  
“He took my candy!” the girl said.  
  
“Buzz off,” the boy said as he stuck one end of a jawbreaker in his mouth and pulled it out of the wrapper with his teeth, tossing the spit covered piece of plastic on the floor. “Go find a bowl of milk, Meow Mix.”  
  
“Or you could give her back her candy,” Selina said moving in close. “Aren’t you already a little fat to be a pile of bones?” The boy stepped into Selina’s space and gave her shove.  
  
“You better watch it-”  
  
“Hey, leave them alone!” Bruce said as he stepped into view.  
  
“Who are you? Her big brother?”  
  
“No. I’m B-”  
  
Selina grabbed his arm and spun him away.  
  
“Let’s just go,” she said, guiding the little girl out in front of her. Bruce had only taken two steps when felt the bully grab his arm and turn him roughly around before landing a blow that pushed his mask back into his face, biting his skin. Bruce fell to the ground and heard Selina yell out, but he was already on his way back up. The world seemed to move in slow motion as he held the edge of his cape in his fist as he swung. The bully went to block it but was misdirected by the swishing black fabric, and Bruce was able to wrap it several times around the bully’s arm, immobilizing it and drawing him closer as Bruce swung with right, catching the bully in across the face. He stumbled backward, and Bruce kneed him in the gut. When he was on his knees, Bruce released the fabric, freeing the bully’s arm and slammed his fist once more into the bully’s nose. He was going to swing again, but when Selina grabbed him.  
  
“Bruce!” she hissed in his ear. “Let’s get out of here!”  
  
The world sped back up to normal time, and Bruce could feel the pain in his fists and his face. His heart pounded in his chest and his breaths came short as Selina dragged him away.  
  
“Where’s the girl?” he asked.  
  
“She ran off; she’s okay. I even grabbed her candy bag for her.” Selina kept to the shadows, ducking behind decorations and tapestries when the need arose as she led him to Alfred. He was glad to have her help. Now that the adrenaline was wearing off, the bully’s blow left him feeling a little lightheaded. They were a few feet from Alfred, skulking behind a large scarecrow decoration when Selina spoke up.  
  
“Psst, Al!”  
  
Alfred turned around. Squinting in the darkness.  
  
“What? Who’s there?” Selina waved one cat’s paw in the air, holding her tail she did so. Alfred pursed his lips together almost knowingly and strode over.  
  
“What’s-” he stopped mid-sentence, whatever he was going to say forgotten at the sight of Bruce. “What happened?”  
  
“Got into a fight.”  
  
“You got into a fight? At the Halloween Ball, what’s the matter with you?”  
  
“It wasn’t his fault,” Selina said quickly as Alfred pulled his own mask off and tucked it into a pocket. “Jerk had it coming, but we should probably go.”  
  
“Right. To the car, Master Bruce. You too, Miss Kyle.” Alfred was ushering them out of the hall when a little girl’s voice rang out.  
  
“There they are, mommy! There’s the ones who helped me!” Alfred could tell by the way Selina and Bruce stiffened, that the child was pointing at them. He turned to see a woman dressed as some sort of genie carting around a princess in her arms.  
  
“’Scuse me,” she said as she pushed through the crowd toward them. “Did your kids stop a bully from stealing my daughter’s candy?”  
  
“Uh, I don’t-”  
  
“That’s them, Mommy,” the girl said. “The kitty and boy in the white mask.”  
  
“Well, thanks a lot,” she said she dug through a small purse. She pulled out a couple $5 bills and tried to put one in Bruce’s hand.  
  
“I can’t take that,” Bruce said. “I just did what anybody would do.” The woman stared at him for a moment — Selina too as she grudgingly withdrew her hand — before hesitantly putting the money back in her purse.  
  
“Suit yourself," she said. "And thanks again.”  
  
Bruce nodded and was about to turn away when the little girl spoke up again.  
  
“Want some chocolate?” she asked loudly. Bruce turned and gave her a smile. It hurt, pushing the mask into his cheeks but he tried not to show it as she held an open Three Musketeers bar out to him, its innards already smeared across her face.  
  
“I’m fine, thank you. That’s your chocolate.”  
  
“Share!” the girl said.  
  
“Hannah, they don’t want your half-eaten candy.”  
  
“SHARE!” the girl screamed. Eyes turned their way and Bruce rushed forward. He took the silver package from her tiny hands.  
  
“How about we split it like this,” he said, bending it at the bottom until the bar broke. Carefully, he slid the top portion onto a napkin and handed it back to the girl, leaving a chunk of chocolate in the wrapper. “I’m sorry, I hope it doesn’t make a mess,” he said as he handed the napkin-wrapped bar back to the girl.  
  
“Oh, we’re used to messes,” the woman said.  
  
“Right, well we really must be going,” Alfred said as he steered Bruce and Selina away. “It was a pleasure meeting you, miss.” Bruce waved goodbye to the girl as they went their separate ways.  
  
“Can we drop you anywhere, Miss Kyle,” Alfred said as they reached the car.  
  
“You’re welcome to stay at the manor, if you like,” Bruce said. Selina let out a small laugh.  
  
“Nah, I got a place not to far from here.”  
  
“You have *a place* around here?”  
  
“Don’t look so surprised, Al,”  
  
“Alfred.”  
  
Selina smiled at them.  
  
“I gotta go.”  
  
“Do you want some of this,” Bruce asked, holding out the shared candy wrapper before she could leave. She looked at it and then back at him.  
  
“Do I want a half-eaten candy bar? That’s sweet.” Bruce nodded and held it out to her. “No,” she said with a laugh. “You earned that one, hero.”  
  
She gave a little wave, turned and slinked through the garage, just a “nice seeing you, Bruce,” left in her wake as her shadow disappeared around a corner.  
  
“Sweet, huh,” Alfred said with a raised eyebrow.  
  
“I’m sure she was referring to the chocolate. It’s very high in sugar.”  
  
“Yes, I’m sure that was it. The sugar.”  
  
They drove home in silence, and it wasn’t until they were in the kitchen, Bruce propped up on a kitchen stool with a bright light shining overhead that Alfred took a good look at him.  
  
“Right, then. Let’s get this mask off.” He reached forward and gently tugged. Bruce winced. He could feel the pull of dried blood as the mask came off. “Well, now isn’t that a lovely sight.”  
  
Bruce looked at his reflection in a small mirror. There was a shallow cut on his left cheek where the mask had broken the skin with the force of the bully’s fist, and a large welt was forming where it hadn’t. The skin beneath his eye was on its way to forming a dark shade of purple. Alfred dabbed at the cut spot with a wet cloth. He was gentle, but it still stung.  
  
“I’m sorry, Alfred,” Bruce said. “I know I shouldn’t have been fighting at the ball, and if I were going to, I should have anticipated the hit and done better.”  
  
“Well,” Alfred said as he moved his attention to Bruce’s hands. “You don’t get knuckles like these without getting a few good shots in.” Alfred poured some peroxide over Bruce’s hands and dabbed them with a towel. “And sometimes people do need a bit of protecting, and you have to fight for what’s right. But you know, Bruce, you can’t solve all of Gotham’s problems.”  
  
“I know that, Alfred,” Bruce said as Alfred turned to the freezer. “And I know I can’t solve my parents’ murder right now. But I can help a little girl who’s getting her Halloween candy taken, right?”  
  
“Yes, you can, sir,” Alfred said. “And know that when you do, I’ll be here with the ice.” He laid a pair of ice packs on Bruce’s hands and moved around the table, sitting next to him and wrapping an arm around his shoulder. Bruce leaned into him, and the coolness of the ice and the comfort of Alfred’s body brought hot tears to his eyes.  
  
He held them back.


End file.
